


“I Do Love You”

by deepestfathoms



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Alcohol, Aragon is Bessie’s mother figure, Bessie is drunk, Depression, Drunkenness, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Past Abuse, it’s just a little rocky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 22:29:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21381637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepestfathoms/pseuds/deepestfathoms
Summary: Aragon didn’t hate Bessie. Yes, she was mad and upset and betrayed that the girl she saw as a daughter slept with her husband for eight years, but seeing her drink her sorrows away wouldn’t make her happy.Really, holding her in her arms again would.
Relationships: Bessie (Six) & Catherine of Aragon
Comments: 1
Kudos: 52





	“I Do Love You”

Bessie stumbles ungracefully when Aragon pulls at her arm in the bar.

“Elizabeth, let’s go.” Aragon said, tugging harder on her sleeve, but Bessie doesn’t budge from where she’s halfway off the barstool. The bassist glowers at her.

This is the fourth bar Aragon has been to, trying to find Bessie after Maggie, Joan, and Maria all turned up on the queen’s doorstep, going on about how they hadn’t seen Bessie since that afternoon show, which had been at twelve. Their fear and worry was obvious, while Aragon’s was much more masked. She had acted like she didn’t care and was just annoyed, sighing and shaking her head as she grabbed her keys and sacrificed herself to go look for the woman. However, once she got in the car, familiar maternal concern set in and she took off to look for the girl she used to see as her daughter.

“_Elizabeth_.” Aragon said with more force.

“Fuck off, Catalina.” The words are slurred and half-formed, and Bessie’s accent makes it even more jumbled, so it’s a miracle that Aragon can even understand her.

Sighing, Aragon decides to take care of Bessie’s payment before returning to the girl, who was now blinking rapidly several times at the bar counter. She was completely out of it.

“Elizabeth, we’re going home.”

“Don’t ‘ave a home.” Bessie’s face crumples and Aragon’s heart breaks.

“You do, Elizabeth.”

Aragon manages to get Bessie out of her seat and pulls her along. Soon, they’re outside where its cool and fresh, much preferred over the stuffy smell of alcohol from the bar.

“Why d’you even care?”

Bessie’s hard work when she’s excessively drunk like this, seemingly even more stubborn than she already always was, which didn’t seem possible, but here they were. She is absolutely tragic, and it hurts Aragon just as much as it hurts Bessie, who’s trying to forget or face the memories she’s being served.

“I’ve always cared, and you know that,” Aragon said, somewhat bitterly. She notices Bessie freeze and furrowed her eyebrows. “Elizabeth?”

Bessie doesn’t respond to her, just stares blankly into the distance, and Aragon can’t help but notice how despondent she looks. With a sigh, Aragon pulls her to the car and practically has to lift her into the passenger seat. After getting the bassist buckled up, the queen gets into the driver’s side and begins the ride home.

—

Everyone is concerned, to say the least. Aragon enters the queen residence almost two hours later with a feverish, half-conscious Bessie in her arms. Maggie and Joan are the first to fling themselves at the pair, shortly followed by Maria and they’re all talking over each other. Aragon feels Bessie’s body tense up and she actually curls even closer to her.

“Hush.” Aragon snapped, holding Bessie protectively against her chest, something that makes the other queen’s raise their eyebrows. “Can’t you see she’s unwell?”

“We’re worried,” Joan said and Aragon notices a few open scabs on her arms. The stress must have been making her pick.

“I know,” Aragon said, “But she needs space. She’s drunk out of her mind right now.” This is confirmed by Bessie mumbling a string of incredibly slurred Italian words, “Let me take care of her. You shouldn’t have to see her like this. She would want you to. She has shame.”

The other three ladies in waiting exchange looks. Aragon sighed and looked at the queens.

“Take them upstairs, will you?”

Jane and Parr stepped forward and began herding the trio up the steps, quickly followed by Anne and Katherine. Cleves stays downstairs for a moment.

“Take care of her.” The German said.

“I will.”

A pause. Then Cleves adds:

“If you do anything to her when she’s like this, I’ll shove a cross up your ass.”

Aragon chuckles at her protectiveness as she retreats up the stairs. She then sets Bessie on the couch and kneels down in front of her, setting a hand on her knee. The queen can’t work out what Bessie’s thinking about- her face is concerningly blank and even when Aragon gives Bessie’s knee a little shake, Bessie doesn’t look at her.

“Hey, Elizabeth?”

Nothing.

Aragon gets up, and when she moves towards the kitchen she sees in her peripheral that Bessie watches her leave the room. She comes back with a tall glass of water and brings it to Bessie’s lips, which causes her to flinch away.

“It’s just water, honey, look.”

Thankfully, that was enough to coax her into drinking. Slowly, the bassist’s eyes begin to focus again, on Aragon. The queen smiled a little.

“There we go,” Aragon murmured, stroking back Bessie’s messy hair, “Good. Good.”

Bessie blinked several times and then screwed her eyes shut tightly as a wave of nausea and dizziness washed over her. A soft moan of pain breaches her lips and her head lolls backwards against the couch cushions.

“Hey, stay with me now,” Aragon said, shaking her knee, “You we’re doing so good, Elizabeth.”

Bessie mumbled something and opened her eyes again. She looks at Aragon for a long time before blinking.

“Why…?” She mumbled. “I-…”

Pain flashes through her expression and Aragon is immediately on her feet as the bassist clutches at her head tightly. She retrieved some painkillers and sleeping pills before returning to Bessie’s side.

“Here, honey,” Aragon grabbed the glass of water and offered the pills to Bessie, who managed to force them down. The queen smiled supportively.

“Why are you doing this for me?” Bessie croaked, “You hate me…you’ve always hated me…why…”

“I don’t hate you, Elizabeth. I’ve never hated you.” Aragon said, “I still love you.”

That made Bessie’s eyes go wide. She stared at the queen in shock before her lip started to quiver. The alcohol was making her way more emotional than she usually was.

“Come here, darling,” Aragon opened her arms, which Bessie promptly fell into. “Shh, shh,” She murmured, running her fingers through the bassist’s hair, “I’ve got you, my little musician. I’m here. I’m here.”

“You’re here,” Bessie repeated, her voice slightly muffled by Aragon’s chest. “You’re here…!”

Painful sobs wracked Bessie’s body. She cried and cried until she felt like she was about to pass out, and Aragon held her the entire time, swaying her and stroking her hair.

“You must be exhausted,” Aragon said, her fingers tracing gentle shapes on Bessie’s back, “Would you like to go up to my bedroom?”

Bessie just fastened her grip around Aragon’s waist, which was enough of an answer.

“I’ll bring you up later, then.” Aragon said.

“You better be here when I wake up…” Bessie grumbled tiredly, parts of her classic self slipping back to her. “Please…”

“Of course,” Aragon pressed a tender kiss to the crown of Bessie’s head, “Sleep now, honey. You need it.” Especially because Bessie was definitely going to be in a world of pain and illness by morning.

Liking the sound of rest, Bessie curled up even closer to Aragon, just like she used to when she was a child. A soft, content sigh escaped her lips as she relaxed in the queen’s arms.

“I love you, mum…”

Aragon froze for a moment before she was filled by endearment. Her heart nearly leapt out of her chest upon hearing that name. She smiled widely and placed another kiss onto Bessie’s head.

“I love you, too, my darling.”


End file.
